My Only Sunshine
by roxystyle011
Summary: Quinn hates Wednesdays. She's hoping to reverse her hatred for Wednesday. Today is Wednesday. Today is the day she tells Rachel how she feels.


**So this story is a little different, coming from me, at least. I hope you appreciate the message I was attempting to get across, and of course I hope you enjoy the story. Titled after the song "You Are My Sunshine". There's a million different versions of the song but I'm partial to the Civil Wars cover. **

* * *

Quinn hates Wednesdays.

Her mother works late so she eats dinner alone, there's nothing good on primetime television, and she doesn't have study hall so she has tons of homework to complete.

She's hoping to reverse her hatred for Wednesday.

Today is Wednesday.

She's been pacing the first floor hallway of McKinley for about twenty minutes. Before that, she rearranged her locker, and before that, she walked around the football track a few times.

She knows that Rachel stays late on Wednesdays to have some alone time with the piano in the choir room. She wouldn't dare interrupt her practice time. It's sacred. Even she's not cold enough to ruin that for the brunette. So, she waits.

It all started five weeks ago—that's a lie. It started long before that but Quinn pretends this is all brand new. That she hasn't been feeling something different for Rachel ever since Quinn witnessed her meeting her mother for the first time. That was huge. That small snowflake escalated into an avalanche as time went on. She doesn't acknowledge those feelings because she would lose all control if she actually _thought _about what it all means.

She sticks with what isn't so pathetic. She _noticed_ a shift in her behavior at around the same time they worked on an original song together for Regionals. She _realized_ she had no control over her emotions on her prom night. She _admitted_ her feelings to herself while she was in New York for Nationals. And now she _knows_ that she can't consciously continue on like this alone. She needs Rachel to know. Maybe it will make her feel better, or maybe it will make her feel worse. Right now, she'll take anything but _this_. This indecision, this uncertainty, this… _insanity_.

That's what she feels _all_ the time.

She feels like she's going insane because these feelings are eating her alive from the inside out. She doesn't know what else to do, and sometime earlier in the day she decided that she needed to talk to the one person who can help her with all of this. The one person who can help her understand _why_ she's feeling like this. The one person who caused these feelings in the first place.

She needs to talk to Rachel.

Rachel needs to know how she feels.

Today is Wednesday.

Today is the day she tells Rachel how she feels.

The wooden door to the choir room swings open with force that Quinn isn't ready for and it startles her out of her dazed-off staring contest with the tiled floor.

"Oh!" Rachel jumps as she puts a hand to her chest. "I didn't see you there, sorry."

The brunette re-shoulders her school bag and continues on her way.

It takes Quinn a few seconds to realize that the girl doesn't seem to notice or care that the blonde is in a deserted hallway an hour after glee practice ended. She speaks up before Rachel gets too far away, "Do you have a minute?"

The brunette turns around fully upon hearing the words. Her confusion smoothes out and curiosity takes its place. "What is it, Quinn?"

The blonde walks forward until she's standing in front of Rachel, "Hi."

"Hi?"

Quinn swallows with slight discomfort as she looks around the hallway for an icebreaker. Today may be the day that she comes clean but it doesn't mean she knows how.

She remembers that Rachel just came from the choir room. "Were you practicing?"

Rachel nods slowly, "Yes. Wednesday is my practice day."

Quinn nods as if it's brand new information and realizes that Rachel's far too antsy to be considered normal.

"Am I keeping you from something?"

Rachel glances down at her cell phone to check the time, "I'm sorry, I'm supposed to meet Finn for dinner. He wants to talk to me about something and I'm running terribly late."

"Oh." Quinn shifts nervously and plays with the silver cross dangling from her neck.

It gives her strength when she needs it, but not even He can help her now.

"I just wanted to- um, well…Wait, let me start over by saying that—"

"You know what? Do you think we could talk tomorrow? I'm really sorry to do this to you, but I lost track of time while I was practicing and I still have to go home and freshen up, and I'd hate to keep him waiting…" Rachel trails off, uncomfortable with discussing the topic of Finn in front of the blonde.

Their break-up is still school news even if it happened two months prior. And to be honest, Rachel's not really emotionally ready to have Quinn attack her for kissing Finn at Nationals. Especially when the only thing on her mind right now _is _Finn.

Quinn snaps her mouth shut, feeling utterly foolish that Rachel's being so short with her when she's trying to be honest with her feelings.

She studies Rachel closely. The way she's breathing as if she's been sitting in traffic for five hours, the way she's looking at the clock as if the end of the world is seconds away, the way she's pleading with Quinn to understand that she really wants to give her the undivided attention that she gives everyone but there are just obstacles in the way right now.

"There's always tomorrow," Quinn replies with a soft smile as relief courses through her.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow's good. She can do this tomorrow.

It's not the right time. Rachel's in a rush, the location is _all_ wrong, and she's not even entirely sure what she wants to say. Now, she can get home, take a bath, and _think_ everything through.

Right now, she only has bullet points. She was hoping it would come from the heart but her words have stage fright all of a sudden. She knows that she's ready to have this conversation. She just needs to find the words to express how she feels inside. How does she come clean about everything? How does she make Rachel understand without slamming her up against the locker and stealing her breath away with a much-craved kiss? She's really just a chicken. Rachel wouldn't take her seriously. She's already a fumbling, stuttering mess, and she can't even imagine herself trying to say the words _want_, _need_, or maybe even _love_.

Rachel's going to have her dinner conversation with Finn and then Quinn will know where the brunette stands on everything. She'll re-calculate her chances at a tentative friendship while desperately praying for something more, and prepare a list of arguments as to why she'd be better than Finn could ever be for her. Deep down she knows that she should just lay it all on the line, right here and right now, before Finn can do that to her. She's just… _terrified. _

Rachel smiles brightly and nods her head once, "Thank you," She breathes as if the blonde just saved her life. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

As the brunette hurriedly walks down the hallway of the school, she finds herself looking forward to something. For once, it's Quinn. She's not sure what Finn wants to talk about but she thinks she has a good idea, and that's why she's so anxious. The sooner she tells him she just wants to be his friend, the sooner she can breathe easily.

And who knows? Maybe Quinn doesn't want to kill her...maybe she just wants to talk. Or be _her_ friend.

Yeah, right. Even Rachel's not gullible enough to believe that.

Regardless, she'll find out tomorrow.

There's always tomorrow.

/

Quinn doesn't go home right away.

She remembers that it's Wednesday and her mother is working late, so she's free to eat dinner whenever she wants.

She's had this nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach since Rachel walked away. At first, she thought it was relief. She didn't have to tell the brunette how she felt, she could wait one more day and hopefully gather her thoughts long enough to form a coherent argument as to why she should be taken seriously. She can read Rachel like a book, and the first thing she'll be asked is if it's a joke.

It'd probably be easier if it _was_ all some big scheme.

Her cell phone vibrates in the cup holder and she reaches down to answer it while she's at a red light.

"Hello?"

"Hi Quinnie, I have a client meeting in 5 minutes so I don't have much time," her mother says through the phone.

"What's up?"

"I just wanted to let you know that I made you some pasta salad last night and it's in the fridge," Judy finishes.

Quinn blinks a few times and toys with the radio as she waits for the light to turn green, "Oh great, thank you."

"Okay, I have to run…be safe and keep the doors locked."

Quinn laughs to herself, "Don't I always?"

"Love you, Dear."

"Love you, too."

The light turns green a few seconds later and she continues on with her aimless driving as she thinks about what she'll say to Rachel the next time she sees her.

Should she try to get her secluded again? Write her a letter? Maybe send her a text and pick a designated time to talk to her?

Her phone rings again and it's Santana but she doesn't feel like dealing with the girl right now. She silences her ringer the second time she calls and throws it into her bag. She drives over town lines and joy rides with the windows down as the low setting sun glares at her in the eyes.

She wonders where Finn took Rachel for dinner. Probably _Breadstix_ or something. She wonders what they're talking about right this moment. She wonders what Rachel is doing and prays that she's smart enough to turn Finn down.

She stops at her favorite fresh market and picks up a grilled chicken breast that she can pair with the pasta salad her mother made and gets home an hour after leaving the high school.

Quinn's in her own little world as she walks up the concrete pathway to her house and fails to realize that Santana's car is parked on the other side of the street.

"Where the hell have you been?"

Her tone isn't icy, or cold. It's _different_. Normally Quinn ignores her but something about her voice makes the blonde just _stop_. She surveys Santana, who's leapt up from the white rocking chair and stands before her now at the top of the steps.

"What's wrong?"

It's not hard to see that Santana has been crying. She thinks back to how the girl called her before she silenced her phone. She feels guilty for not picking up but she was dealing with her own troubles.

"Is it Brit?"

Santana's shoulders start shaking and a hand comes up to cover her mouth as she silently sobs. She shakes her head and Quinn steps closer to her.

She's relieved that nothing is wrong with Brittany but it still has to be something serious if Santana is standing at her front door in heavy tears.

"What happened? Your abuela?" Santana continues to cry harder, "Hey, talk to me," she softly coos.

Santana shakily breathes in and out a few times as if she's jumpstarting herself into getting the words out audibly.

Quinn waits patiently as Santana continues breathing, the tears sliding down her cheeks. The blonde feels like crying just because she's in front of her. Santana's an easy crier, she reminds herself as she tries not to panic, it might just be something stupid.

"Berry…" she starts and it triggers a fresh wave of tears.

Quinn's patience vanishes and she grips Santana's biceps tightly as the brown bag with the chicken falls to the wooden porch.

"What about her?"

"She…" she begins but finds it too hard to continue. The overwhelming uncertainty is crushing her and it makes her cry harder.

"What. Happened. To. Her?" Quinn grinds through her teeth, her nails digging into the girl's skin.

"Car accident… and…" she breathes, "I- I don't know."

"Is she okay?"

Santana's sobs give her an answer.

Her hands loosen as she stares at nothing. She completely checks out. She's not sure what she's feeling because she can't feel anything. She's numb. She can hear her heart throbbing in her ears, her face feels hot, and she's pretty sure she should be making her way to find a bucket to throw up in.

She's trying so hard to remember Rachel's face. To call it up from memory but she's blank. She can't think. She has no idea what is going on, and for a second she's sure that it's a lie. There's no way that the girl was in a car accident, she _just_ saw her. She's supposed to be out to dinner with Finn, rejecting him, or whatever she was planning on doing and then they were going to talk tomorrow.

She's supposed to tell Rachel how she feels tomorrow. She was supposed to tell Rachel how she felt today. On cue, she can feel the warning signs of unwanted saliva trickling in her mouth that lets her know that she's about to be sick.

She feels like she's been drinking for 10 straight hours and someone stole her purse at the end of the night. She feels stranded and helpless.

She's catatonic.

Santana's a blubbering mess in front of her, saying things, things that Quinn should probably be paying attention to but she can't. Not when she can't get Rachel's lifeless body out of her head. She zones back in and everything comes crashing into her with vivid color.

"Is she okay?"

Santana wipes her eyes as her cries die down enough for her to speak, "I don't know yet."

"No, you need to tell me that she's okay."

"No one knows! They're at the hospital."

"Tell me that she's okay!" Quinn screams, finally feeling the panic that she should have felt all along.

Instead of backing down, Santana uses the same volume of voice towards Quinn, "We're all just as scared! I don't know! I don't know what to tell you, I was just told _to_ tell you!"

"What am I doing here still talking to you then?! You know nothing!" Quinn whirls around and starts making her way back to her car.

"Where are you going?" Santana's voice cracks as she calls out to the blonde.

"The hospital. Someone in that damn place knows something."

Santana finally realizes that she needs to chase after the girl and jogs lightly to catch up, "What are you going to do? Threaten every single doctor?"

"If I have to," Quinn throws over her shoulder.

Santana finally catches up and pulls at her forearm so that she'll stop. She turns around instead.

"She needs to be okay," Quinn's hoarse voice breaks in vulnerability for a split second before she shakes her head, "She just needs to, okay?"

"I know she does," Santana agrees.

"No! No, you don't know. She _needs_ to be okay."

Santana doesn't bother trying to read any deeper than face value. She agrees with the blonde.

"I'll drive. My dad's a doctor so I get choice parking."

Quinn closes her eyes before nodding her acceptance and allows Santana to lead her to the street.

/

The car ride isn't silent, like one would expect. Quinn is quietly staring down at her shaking hands as Santana tells her where everyone was when they heard the news. Where they were, what they were doing, what they did after finding out. Typical high school teenagers caught up in reliving every aspect of it because it's probably the worst accident this small town has ever seen. Everyone needs to share what it felt like to hear that Rachel was in a car accident, everyone needs to one-up the next person in some strange way. Quinn continues to stare at her lap as Santana tells her everything she knows. She doesn't respond but she's somewhat thankful, even if she's bound to hear the same stories over and over again, each time getting a bit more exaggerative.

She glances at the stoplight when she feels the car slow down. The light is still green and she's confused as to why Santana is going so slow. She turns to question the girl but she sees Santana looking out the passenger side window so she turns to find out what has the girl so quiet and that's when she sees it. Rachel's black car, the SUV that ran the red light, the tow trucks, and the dozens of people still working on clearing the wreck.

The pavement sparkles in the setting sun and Quinn finds it beautiful before she realizes that it's the glass from Rachel's car windows and she feels sick to her stomach.

She's sadistic sometimes. She needs to see this, she needs to know that it's real. By tomorrow, the cars will be gone, the glass will be swept, and the traffic pattern will be back to normal. It will all just be a memory. People will drive by and say, "Did you hear about the accident?" Some people will comment on how sad it is, while others will brag about how they knew the people involved, even if it's something as stretched as a neighbor's son's friend at school.

The black Volkswagon doesn't look much like a car anymore, but she knows it's Rachel's. She can see the pink steering wheel cover, and she can just make out part of the metallic _Diva_ _in Training_ bumper sticker that she used to roll her eyes at.

She'd give anything to be able to read it again.

"Pull over."

Santana snaps out of her silent gawking, "What?"

"Pull over," Quinn struggles to get out as she furiously fumbles with her seat belt.

Santana pulls into the deserted car wash parking lot just beyond the intersection and Quinn barely waits until the car comes to a stop before she pushes open the door and finally empties whatever is in her stomach.

"Shit," Santana hisses softly as she also fumbles with her seat belt and reaches across the center console to rub small circles on Quinn's back.

Santana winces each time she hears Quinn heave.

"It's okay," Santana soothes softly as she reaches into the back seat to grab a bottle of water and her gym shirt, "Here."

Quinn uses the gym shirt to wipe her face before swooshing some of the water in her mouth to get rid of the disgusting after taste.

"We'll get you some of Brittany's gum at the hospital, okay?"

Quinn nods with her eyes closed as she shuts the door and rests her head back on the headrest. She concentrates on breathing, afraid that if she thinks about anything else in the moment, she'll just continue to dry heave until the sun goes down. She needs to be strong, she needs to get to Rachel, she needs to know that the girl will be okay.

"Everything will be okay," Santana sighs as she pulls back out onto the main road.

Quinn doesn't believe her.

Santana's only saying it because she desperately wants to believe it.

Quinn knows better.

Nothing will ever be okay again.

/

She's always hated hospitals. How could she not? The dimly lit hallways, the eerie sound of monitors beeping down long corridors, the thick feeling on your chest as you pass a room with flowers and Hallmark cards lining the windowsill; it's all too much for Quinn sometimes. Hospitals are filled with those that are sick, dying, temporarily diseased, and broken boned.

Quinn can break them down into simple categories: the hopeful, and the hopeless.

There's just one more category, and that's where Rachel is right now.

Helpless.

It's the worst category, Quinn knows first hand. She was, after all, in the very same hospital not too long ago feeling helpless as she said goodbye to her baby.

She hasn't felt that way in so long.

She does now. She knows Rachel is somewhere in the building, people hovering over her, yelling frantically, demanding things that the brunette probably has never even heard of before.

If she's conscious, she's scared and in pain. If she's unconscious, she's lifeless and numb. Quinn's not sure which makes her feel better.

She decides that neither do.

The automatic glass doors slide open as her and Santana approach them and it's not long before she's bombarded by familiar yet faceless people. She can smell Puck's aftershave, hear Kurt on the phone, recognize Brittany's soothing voice as people take turns crying, but she doesn't _see_ any of them. She knows they're there and she should be comforted by it, but the only thing on her mind is Rachel.

Santana leads her to an empty seat in the waiting room and Quinn allows her to.

"Have you guys heard anything else?"

Quinn listens as four different people begin telling Santana how they saw one of Rachel's fathers in the hallway as one of the doors opened briefly. How he looked worn and tired, like he'd been crying for days. Quinn shifts uncomfortably but keeps quiet.

She listens as Kurt tells them that he ran out of the coffee shop without getting his espresso, she faintly acknowledges Mercedes as she explains that her mother found out from a neighbor, and she pretends to care when they all realize Tina was the first one to find out.

She hates them. She hates every single one of them and she doesn't bother trying to find an explanation for the feeling. She just hates them.

She's not going to tell them that she was the last person to see Rachel before the accident. She doesn't want to share the memory with them. She knows that it wouldn't be long before they'd text their other friends, substituting her words with their own in order to make everything more dramatic.

"It was some douche on his cell phone." Puck softly says, "I heard it on my dad's old police scanner when they were at the scene." He looks up to the rest of them with a solemn expression, "I didn't know. I didn't know it was Rachel."

His resolve breaks and it triggers a domino effect within the close-knit group. The guys no longer able to hold in their composure as they finally allow their emotions to catch up with them. The girls seeking comfort with whoever is closest.

Quinn's not sure what's wrong with her but she doesn't feel anything. She can't cry, she won't react, and she refuses to try.

"We just saw her a few hours ago," Artie shrugs.

Mercedes speaks up, "She lent me her notes for History."

"Who am I going to copy off of in Math? She always gives me the answers," Brittany says sadly.

"How are we going to win Sectionals next year without her?"

"Will you all just _shut _up?" Quinn grits through her teeth as she stands up, "Shut up, already! Rachel was _just_ in a car accident, she's not going to die. Stop talking about her like she's dead."

"Insensitive much? Why are you here if you don't care about her?"

Quinn's legs move before her mind realizes she's about to lunge at the boy and luckily Santana's reflexes kick in before another member of glee ends up in a hospital room.

"Easy," Santana tells her as her arms wrap around Quinn's from the side. "Everyone's just on edge."

"Yeah guys, we shouldn't be fighting, Rachel wouldn't want that."

"Who are you kidding? Rachel will love the dramatics of all of this."

Everyone stays silent for a few seconds. Quinn agrees, though. For the first time since arriving at the hospital, she finds herself wanting to smile. She should be filming this for Rachel, the scene in the emergency room. The brunette would love to know that the entire glee club rushed to the hospital to find out how bad the damage was, she'd love to know that people were fighting over who heard first, and she'd love to see everyone in tears over the uncertainty.

Who knows, she might find the accident worth it just to know that she has 12 people that care about her. One person that cares about her beyond words.

Tina's the first one to crack a watery smile and it opens the floodgates known as the rest of them.

Quinn sits down and rests her head against the back of the stiff chair, remembering her prom night and how Rachel seemed to appreciate all the dramatics then.

"Now there's no way to deny how much we actually care about her," Kurt speaks up again. "She'll never let us forget it."

A few nod in agreement while others sigh and struggle to get more comfortable in their chairs.

"It's just scary, y'know? Like, it could have been any one of us. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"It only took a few seconds. Why couldn't she have skipped her afternoon practice? Why did she have to take that way home?"

Kurt nods in agreement, "Poor Finn, she was supposed to meet him for dinner. He was going to tell her how he felt. Can you imagine? About to tell someone you love them and they get into a car accident? He must be a wreck. He may never—"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence."

"Sorry Quinn, I'm sure you still must be upset over your break up with Finn but now is really not the time for your petty jealousy issues."

"The poor kid—"

"Yes, poor Finn. He was the reason she was rushing in the first place!"

"She was _rushing_ because she was running late for some reason."

"Guys!"

"It's fine. I'm leaving."

"Q, don't leave. Rachel needs all of us here for her."

"I'm sure she'll be better off without me. I've already done enough."

"Quinn…"

Quinn ignores the protests and calls of her friends and walks down a hallway and away from the god-awful emergency room. She's not sure where she's going but she knows that she's not leaving. She could never leave Rachel, especially right now. As long as she's still in the building, she'll feel connected.

She stumbles across a set of elevators and waits for the door to open before she presses one of the numbers. She's on auto-pilot and she realizes it as she steps out on the 5th floor. She approaches the thick glass window and rests her forehead against it with an audible sigh.

The maternity ward is exactly the same as she remembers it. She figures that all maternity wards must look similar, the pastel colors on the wall and the cartoon zoo animals in each of the rooms.

It's a place that brings people so much joy but all she sees is a place that's just as suffocating as the emergency room downstairs. She detaches herself from her own personal issues. She focuses on the new life brought into the world and tries not to think about the girl fighting for her's downstairs. It's harder than she thought it would be.

The elevators ding behind her and she glances at the clock to see that she's completely lost track of time.

"Knew I'd find you up here."

Her spine stiffens but only because she wishes that she wasn't so predictable sometimes.

"How'd you know?"

Puck laughs to himself, "This is where I would have come if I was in your shoes."

She can feel him approaching her and it's only when he wraps a strong arm around her from behind that she feels herself relax on instinct. She rests her head back on his chest and closes her eyes.

"What if they're right? What if Finn will never get to tell her that he loves her? I mean, it's got to be pretty bad if it's been 3 hours and we still don't know anything. What if she- what if- she—"

"Hey, hey," Puck softly murmurs and tightens his hold. "None of that. Rachel's like the strongest chick I know."

"You're dating Zizes," she reminds him.

She can feel him rolling his eyes, "Emotionally and mentally the strongest chick I know. She's _got_ this."

"But what if Finn—"

"I'm not worried about Finn, I'm worried that you're worried about Finn."

"We've barely said three words to each other since the last time we were standing here, you don't need to start worrying about me now."

"Start? I haven't stopped worrying about you, babe."

"I'm the reason Rachel got into the car accident."

Puck is silent for a few seconds before, "C'mon Quinn, don't be ridiculous."

"No. No, I am. I waited for her to get done in the choir room so I could talk to her. And I- I wasn't able to tell her what I wanted to say. If I just told her or if I never bothered at all, either way, she wouldn't be on some operating table right now. It's my fault and now F-Finn might not be able to tell her that he loves her. Oh my god, this is all my fault."

Puck spins her around just as she feels her eyes start to sting and holds her to his chest.

"What if there isn't a tomorrow? I told her, I told her that there was always tomorrow but what if I'm wrong? What if there isn't a tomorrow?"

"Shhh," Puck whispers as he rubs his hand over her back in an effort to get her to calm down. "This has nothing to do with Finn, does it?"

Quinn shakes her head into his chest and squeezes him harder.

"I love her. I love her so much. I had the chance to tell her and I didn't, and now I may never be able to."

"You will."

"You don't know that."

"I do."

"God, what am I going to do?"

Puck sighs and pushes back on Quinn's shoulders in order to look at her, "You're going to be there for her, okay? No matter what."

"Puck, I love her so much."

"I know, I know…it's going to be okay."

Quinn still doesn't believe those words but she'll pretend she does for now.

If only for Rachel's sake.

And the sake of her sanity.

/

"So how long?"

Quinn rolls a cherry tomato across the lettuce with her plastic fork and shrugs. She's not hungry at all but Puck insisted that she eat something before the hospital cafeteria closed. The rest of the glee kids already took turns in small groups.

"How long what?"

She didn't mean to tell anyone about her secret, especially before she told the person it involved, but she felt like she'd burst if she didn't tell someone. She feels slight relief now, she knows that she'll feel a million times better when she gets the chance to finally tell Rachel.

If she ever gets the chance.

For now, Puck will do.

And she certainly isn't going to make it easy for him.

"C'mon, how long have you, ya know?"

"No, I don't _know_."

Puck drops the cheeseburger onto his plate and leans across the table, "Been in love with you know who," He whispers.

Quinn rolls her eyes. She knows exactly when she realized it but she won't give him that information.

"I don't know, it just _happened_."

He nods and seems satisfied with the answer, "Eat." He gestures towards her salad with his chin before taking another bite out of his burger.

"I'm not hungry."

He sighs and drops the burger again, "Look, Rachel always has my back, she's kind of an annoying little brother that needs saving all the time but she's my jew for life. I can't imagine what it feels like for you, but I know that we're thinking the same thing. And eating food won't make you a bad person."

"How could you possibly be thinking the same thing as me?"

"You're thinking that you wish you could have been the one in the car instead of her. You'd do anything to make sure she was far, far away from that intersection. I don't have to be in love with her to feel that way, either, so before you start accusing me of moving in on your girl—"

Quinn flicks one of the cherry tomatoes across the table with a small smile. "I wasn't going to accuse you of that. Thank you, though."

Quinn spears a few pieces of lettuce in order to appease her friend and eats slowly so she doesn't have to eat that much. She's not sure when the immature boy that got her pregnant grew into this caring man but she's thankful for his presence. He's probably the only person that she can tolerate right now.

Puck's phone buzzes on the table and he answers it while Quinn takes a sip of her water. She tries not to listen but she's on the edge of her seat hoping that it's news about Rachel. Judging by his deflated features, he was hoping the same thing.

"No word on Rachel, but the Berrys told everyone to go home to their families for the night. You ready?"

Quinn chews on her lower lip, "No, you go ahead. Tell Santana that my mom is coming to get me."

"I'll wait and walk back with you."

"No, really. I'm gonna finish up my dinner."

"I don't mind waiting, I have my car."

"I'd kind of like to be alone right now, if that's okay?"

Puck nods and stands up with his trash, "Text me if you need anything?"

Quinn nods and shows him a small smile so that he feels better about leaving the girl alone. There's sadness around his eyes, probably from the fact that he's always considered himself the protector of the group, and now he feels like he failed.

"Puck," She calls out to him. She waits until he turns around. "Thank you, I mean it."

He smiles and gives her a half wave before he disappears out of the cafeteria and back to where everyone else is.

/

Quinn was done with her salad a while ago but she needed an excuse. She waits ten minutes before she makes her way back to the emergency room, stopping at the gift shop along the way to grab a magazine or two, and hopes it's enough time for everyone to leave and she's relieved when she doesn't see anyone she recognizes.

She finds a secluded group of empty chairs and tries to make herself comfortable with what she has. She flips through the magazine but doesn't fool herself, every time the main door opens, she looks up hoping to see Rachel walking around or something else that seems near impossible.

She thinks about her friends and wonders if she would stay this late for any one of them. She likes to think that she would but she can't be sure. She thinks about school and all the homework she still has to do.

She thinks about the fact that it's Wednesday.

She'll never be able to trust Wednesday again.

After an hour, she gets up and stretches, realizing that she never called her mother. She explains the situation and lies when she tells her that the entire glee club is spending the night in the hospital.

"Pray for her, Quinnie."

She closes her eyes as her mother's words echo in her head. She's been so caught up in everything that she forgot to do the one thing she actually can do.

She holds the cross on her necklace and silently begins to pray to whatever God will listen.

/

"Quinn? Quinn, sweetheart, wake up."

Quinn's eyes open for a brief second before closing again.

"Sweetie, wake up."

Her eyes open again, more alert this time, and she sits up a bit. "Rachel? It was just a bad dream?"

She looks around, hoping to find the familiar colors of her bedroom but she's met with the badly lit waiting room of Lima General.

The man above her is struggling to keep his emotions in check as his eyes shine with unshed tears.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, but it wasn't a bad dream," he stops speaking for a moment and closes his eyes. Quinn can tell he wants to say something but he steels himself, "How long have you been here? I thought everyone left."

Quinn looks around some more, trying to find a clock.

"It's almost midnight," he supplies her.

Quinn hates herself for going to sleep when she could have been praying for her friend.

"I never left," she replies. "You know who I am?"

The man smiles softly and nods, "The infamous Quinn Fabray, of course."

"I-Is she okay? Is Rachel okay?"

The man sighs, "It's late. Why don't you get home?"

Quinn shakes her head, "I'm not leaving."

Mr. Berry chuckles to himself before nodding his head for Quinn to follow, "She's described you as stubborn."

Quinn swallows and follows the man over to a door, "Please. Is she going to be okay?"

"We raised our baby to be a fighter," he comments. "She's fighting."

Quinn closes her eyes and nods once, "Where are you taking me?"

She follows Mr. Berry down a long corridor and to an elevator, "They moved her to a room."

It's silent between them as they ride the elevator and it's only when they turn the corner of a hallway that Quinn speaks up again, "What were you doing down in the emergency room?"

"Talking to one of the doctors," LeRoy slows down and turns around to face the blonde. "She's not awake yet, they're not sure when she will be awake."

"I understand," she goes to walk into the room but he stops her.

"Is there a reason that I'm allowing you to stay and not any of her other friends?"

Quinn gnaws on her lip, able to see the end of Rachel's hospital bed out of the corner of her eye but needing to find a response that will suffice Mr. Berry.

_I'm in love with your daughter_, she wishes she could say. Even she knows that now is not the time for confessions like that. He's dealing with enough as it is.

"When Mr. Hummel was in the hospital, we went to visit him. Well, the two of us, and, and Mercedes Jones decided to see if we could help."

"How?"

"We all practice different religions, and we thought maybe we could, I don't know, help him that way. Rachel sang to him, and I know that, if I don't at least _try _to do something like that for her," Quinn sighs, unable to find the words. "I just need to try."

"I understand," he smiles warmly. "Who knows, maybe she'll wake up to tell you that you're flat."

Quinn finds herself wanting to smile despite herself, wouldn't it be a miracle if that did happen?

"My husband and I can talk to the doctors, if you don't mind?"

Quinn swallows and nods, realizing that they're going to leave her alone with their daughter, "Of course."

The blonde waits awkwardly as Mr. Berry sighs in the direction of Rachel's bed before walking down the hallway to locate his husband. Quinn closes her eyes and knocks on the opened wood door out of respect before she hesitantly walks into the room. The TV mounted in the corner of the room is turned off, and the only light on is a lamp that's bolted to the wall above her head.

Quinn's not prepared for the sight she sees as she walks beyond the curtain that shields her from the hallway. Imagining Rachel after being in a car accident isn't nearly as bad as actually seeing her after said accident. The monitors beeping is what she registers first as her eyes briefly take note of the many screens with foreign print on them. She follows the clear tubes until they disappear into the bruised and cut up skin of Rachel's frail arm. She swallows thickly as she lets her eyes finally scan over Rachel's face, her beautiful brown eyes hidden behind swollen eye lids, her cheeks puffy, and her lips fat with small wounds that hopefully won't scar. White bandages, a few turned crimson, covering the deeper cuts no doubt from shards of glass belonging to the windows of her car. Her other arm bandaged up, and a hard cast around her delicate wrist.

That's just what is visible to Quinn's eye. There's no telling what other kind of bruises and broken bones lay underneath the white hospital blanket that keeps Rachel warm. There's no telling what other types of damage have been done to the sweetest person she's ever had the privilege of knowing.

Quinn shakes her head as the tears blur her vision and she calmly wipes them away with the sides of both forefingers, "Hey," She says with a small forced smile, "Always a production with you, huh?"

The blonde is answered with the steady sound of beeps as Rachel continues to lay lifeless. Quinn pulls one of the chairs closer to the side of Rachel's bed and winces when it makes too much noise. She chances a hesitant look at the brunette, hoping she didn't wake her when she realizes how trivial it is. It still hasn't sunk in yet that Rachel isn't peacefully sleeping, that nothing about this can be considered a dream. A nightmare, maybe. But she's still not sure that she's going to wake up from this nightmare.

Quinn timidly reaches onto the bed and slips her hand underneath Rachel's palm. She doesn't want to move her too much in case it does more harm than good but she needs to physically touch her. Rachel's presence soothes her when it's not driving her absolutely wild with passion, and she needs to feel the brunette in order to stay grounded. "This is my fault," Quinn starts after a few moments of staring at Rachel's face through cloudy eyes. She nods, "This is all my fault," she sighs with a shaky breath, "I am so sorry, Rachel. And if you wake up, I promise I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you."

Quinn waits for Rachel to crack open an eye, show a small smirk, and tell her that it was all an elaborate joke. For her to say that she's just been pretending this whole time, that she's only wearing a lot of make-up and paying everyone to be devastated.

She's met with continuous beeping and it makes her cry harder. She wants to shake Rachel, demand her to wake up so they can laugh about it all, the lengths that Rachel will go to so that she can find out what people really think of her.

_I got you so good, _she'll say, _you should have seen your face. _Quinn will shake her head in an attempt to scold her, _I'm going to kill you, Berry_, she'll reply as she throws a hospital pillow at her.

She's only fooling herself.

"I _love_ you, Rachel." Quinn feels the weight lifted off her chest for a brief moment before she glances up to see the brunette lying still as she breathes through a tube. "When you wake up, I'll never let you forget that."

Quinn lowers her head down as slowly as possible, a few tears dropping onto the tanned arm, and she places a soft kiss on the back of Rachel's hand.

"I promise."

/

Quinn is loading her backpack with the books she needs in order to do her homework for the evening when she sees Santana approaching her from the corner of her eye.

The last week and a half dragged along slowly. Quinn feels like a zombie at this point in time, not sure whether she's coming or going. Her life hasn't exactly been rainbows and sunshine. Even when she finds herself tired enough to drift to sleep, she's jolted awake from the sounds and screams of car accidents. Sometimes the car catches on fire, other times Quinn's the one driving the car that ran into Rachel. She's haunted whether she's conscious or unconscious.

"Did you hear?"

Quinn closes her locker, "No, hear what?"

_Glee is cancelled, _she's expecting Santana to reply, so she's shocked when the next words out of her mouth are, "Rachel's awake."

Her backpack drops to the ground, "What?"

"She's awake," Santana repeats, misty eyed.

Quinn thinks it's quite possibly the best news she's heard in her entire life.

/

It takes her another few days to gain up the courage to visit Rachel. It's not that she didn't want to, it's that she didn't know how. What would she say? How would she act? How would Rachel act? Will she even remember that Quinn was technically the last person to talk to her before she almost died?

She finally decides to visit on Wednesday.

Quinn walks down the familiar hallways, sees the same people she always saw when she would visit Rachel after dinner, just before visiting hours were over. That was her routine. She'd have dinner with her mother at 6 o'clock, make it to the hospital by 7, just in time for Rachel's dads to get something to eat, watch Jeopardy, and read until it was time to leave at 8:30. Sometimes she would sing to Rachel softly, but only when she knew that the nurses had already made their rounds and there was no chance someone would walk in on her in such a vulnerable state.

It's different now. Stopping at the gift shop, purchasing a teddy bear for someone who is awake to receive it. Knowing that she'll have competition when she answers the questions on Jeopardy. Will Rachel even want to watch Jeopardy with her? She stops walking. Will Rachel even want to see her?

She closes her eyes and breathes, trying not to think about the promise she made the day she first visited Rachel in the hospital, about telling her that she was in love with her. Saying I love you to someone who can't hear you is one thing, it's a very different thing to say it to someone who can respond and slap you across the face.

She's startled out of her thoughts when she hears her name being called from down the corridor. Her eyes focus on LeRoy Berry, as he approaches her before she sees Rachel's other father, talking to one of the nurses.

"We haven't seen you in a while, we were worried something happened," he starts as he comes to a stop in front of her. His eyes take note of the teddy bear and he smiles.

"I'm know, I'm sorry."

"Well, you're here now, Rachel will be happy to have a friend, she's been restless today."

"How is she doing otherwise?"

They begin walking, "One day at a time."

Quinn nods. It's what she expected.

LeRoy stops just outside Rachel's room, "Hiram and I can head down to the cafeteria to give you guys some privacy. He's been restless as well,"

He nods over to him and she can overhear him getting snippy with one of the nurses.

Quinn smiles appreciatively, "Thanks."

She knocks on the frame of the door, something that she did each time she visited Rachel for the two weeks she lay unconscious in the same bed she was in now. She doesn't blame her for being restless.

"Yes?" she hears and she wasn't emotionally ready for someone to answer her.

She takes a breath and hesitantly walks further into the room.

"Hi," Quinn says quietly, her eyes prickling with stubborn tears.

Rachel's alive.

Rachel looks up from pushing around what looks like hospital made pasta and straightens up immediately. She attempts to scoot back and winces slightly, which causes Quinn to rush forward.

The closer Quinn gets to her, the more nervous Rachel appears.

"W-what are you doing here?" she asks as she runs her hands through her hair.

Rachel's in her standard hospital gown, her arms still home to a few IV tubes, and her hair is casually pulled back and away from her face. She looks tired, her eyes clean of makeup, but Quinn still thinks she's breathtaking.

"I came to see you," Quinn replies.

"I'm such a mess," Rachel responds, looking down at her gown.

"Hey," Quinn calls for her attention, "You're fine."

Rachel finally stops attempting to straighten herself up and she debates on where to put her hands, fidgeting between putting them in her lap and resting them on the small tray in front of her. Quinn laughs softly.

"You look good."

"Liar."

Quinn knows there's really no way to explain to her how good she looks. She'll never understand until she's at the bedside of the person she loves after they've been in a car accident to fully appreciate the truth behind Quinn's words. At the same time, Quinn wishes that Rachel never has to endure something like that.

"I-Is that for me?" Rachel asks.

Quinn looks down and remembers the brown teddy bear she spent a small fortune on in the overpriced gift shop and nods. She glances towards Rachel's windowsill and sees what looks like hundreds of cards, gifts, flowers, balloons, and about 6 teddy bears. She looks down at the measly teddy bear and deflates. Of course other people already brought her things, she doesn't know why she thought she would be the only one thoughtful enough to bring a _get well_ present.

"I'll just put it over here with the rest of them," she replies, moving towards the stuffed animal section, feeling foolish all of a sudden.

"C-can I see it?"

Quinn stops walking and turns around slowly, "It's just a teddy bear."

"Please?" she asks, the innocence of her tone stabs Quinn in the heart and she finds herself blindly obeying.

Quinn's immobile as she watches Rachel study the teddy bear then hold it to her chest, closing her eyes as she squeezes the present. Quinn smirks as she realizes that there's probably a fair amount of morphine running through Rachel's veins right now via the arm tube.

"He's cute," Rachel comments as she holds him up, "And he's holding a microphone," she smiles as she looks up to Quinn, "What's his name?"

Quinn shrugs, "Whatever you'd like."

Rachel narrows her eyes for a few seconds, Quinn can practically hear her brain working overtime to come up with a name, "Ziegfeld." She decides.

Quinn tries the name out, somehow entirely random yet completely Rachel.

"Are you going to sit?" Rachel asks.

Quinn sways awkwardly next to the bed before taking a seat in the chair she's spent far too much time in.

Quinn looks around the room, eyes finally settling on the tray of food, "You should eat your dinner."

"I'm not very hungry," Rachel replies, carefully tucking Ziegfeld under her arm.

"At least eat your Jell-O cup."

Rachel listens, much to Quinn's surprise and spoons some of the Jell-O into her mouth.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I was hit by a truck," Rachel's reply is so offhand that Quinn can literally feel the color drain from her face. Rachel looks up at the silence and her face drops, "Sorry."

Quinn takes a few seconds to recover. Rachel _should_ feel like that, but the way she so nonchalantly said it threw her off a bit, "Are you still in a lot of pain?"

Rachel spoons some more Jell-O and shrugs, "The painkillers help, but I'm sore."

Quinn runs through the mental list of injuries Rachel sustained, three broken ribs, a broken wrist, a fractured ankle, and a nearly fatal blow to the head. Quinn shakes the thought of Rachel being thrown around like a ragdoll and focuses on something else.

"Are they going to let you go soon?"

Rachel shrugs again, "Don't know."

Quinn shifts in her chair, Rachel's demeanor is making her uneasy, it doesn't feel right.

With Rachel's eyes still trained on her Jell-O cup she nods her head toward the small bedside dresser that has a few pictures of her dads in frames, "Grab that book?"

Quinn reaches over and picks up the marble notebook, the word _Visitors_ neatly written on the front and hands it over to Rachel. She shakes her head, scraping the last of her Jell-O, and says, "Sign it."

"You have a visitor book?"

She shrugs again and puts the empty cup on her tray, "I'd like to know who came to visit me."

Quinn opens the book and finds the page separated into three columns. The first column is for your name, the second is the date, and the third is the time. Quinn scans the pages and faintly registers the TV being turned on in the background. There has to be at least a hundred names so far, and she realizes that it's been about a week since Rachel has woken up so of course a lot of people have visited her since then. She sees Finn's name, quite a lot, and starts paying closer attention to the time he tends to go.

Quinn hears a familiar sound and looks towards the TV, smiling softly when she sees Alex Trebeck's face on the screen. "Jeopardy?" she asks.

"This, re-runs of _Friends_, and _Maury_ are the only things I watch."

Quinn nods, wondering if Rachel's mind somehow knew that they would watch Jeopardy together every time she visited. She hopes so.

Quinn closes the Visitor book without signing it. She's not sure she wants everyone else to know that she's come to visit. They didn't know of the times she came when Rachel was still unconscious so why should they know about it now.

"What is World War 2," Rachel answers the television.

Quinn also answers, "What is the Vietnam War."

She smirks when it's confirmed that her answer is the correct one. Rachel turns to look at her, something unfamiliar in her eye.

"Why are you here?"

Quinn's smile drops and she swallows nervously, "What?"

Rachel's about to respond when there's a knock on the door, as well as an audible, "Knock, Knock."

Quinn can see the nurse from her position and she smiles politely.

"Quinn, haven't seen you in a while. How is everything, Rachel?"

"You two know each other?" Rachel asks curiously.

Quinn's about to interject when the nurse answers quickly, "Sure! Quinn was here every night until…" she trails off, slowly putting two and two together and smiling, "How was your dinner?" she asks instead.

"Horrible," Rachel turns sharply towards Quinn, "You came to visit me?"

She forces a smile and reminds herself to remain cool, just because she visited Rachel every single night regardless of what was going on in her life, doesn't mean Rachel will assume she has feelings for her. "Of course."

Rachel glances towards the nurse before returning her gaze on the blonde, "E-every night?" she asks hesitantly, presumably not wanting to jump to conclusions.

Quinn looks beyond her and nods, "So your Dads could get something to eat."

"Why?"

The nurse takes the tray of food away and quietly makes her exit. Quinn throws a scowl at her retreating back and faces Rachel, "What do you mean why?"

"Every night?"

"You were in a car accident Rachel, one that I caused."

She hadn't meant to let that slip but the inquisition was making her uncomfortable. Her face gives entirely too much emotion away and with Rachel rapid firing questions, she doesn't stand a chance.

"Don't be ridiculous Quinn, you weren't driving the SUV."

She's silent for a few long seconds, "What do you remember about that day? I mean, before you got…hit."

Rachel closes her eyes, concentration set in under her eyelids. Quinn's on the edge of her seat as she watches Rachel silently pull up what she's asking her to.

"I remember…" Rachel starts, her brows furrow deeper as she strains herself. Quinn thinks she's hurting herself and is about to ask her to stop before Rachel opens her mouth again, "I remember practicing…in the choir room. I was running late for some reason…" she pauses again for a few seconds, "Dinner. You were there."

She opens her eyes and Quinn feels them run over her face but forces herself to not look away. She nods.

Rachel closes her eyes again, "You were in the hallway, were we going to dinner?" She asks and opens her eyes again for an answer.

"No." Quinn softly responds.

"Why were you there?" she asks.

Quinn closes her eyes, the familiar scene that feels more like a haunting than a memory starts playing in her mind. Her hands fidgeting as she waits for Rachel to come out into the hallway, the uncertainty of what she wanted to say, the way Rachel seemed to be in such a rush that it made her even more nervous. "I needed to talk to you."

"About what?"

Quinn stays silent, hoping Rachel will take the wheel again as they drive down memory lane.

"You were nervous." Rachel replies suddenly. "I left. Finn." She pauses to see if she's correct and Quinn nods. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why were you nervous?"

Quinn purses her lips, "There's something I had to tell you," she says slowly, "That I was nervous about."

Rachel attempts to sit up again and winces. The frustration is clearly etched on her face and Quinn reaches forward and rests her hand over the brunette's. Brown eyes follow the movement and her brows furrow before she cautiously looks back toward Quinn.

She takes a deep breath to prepare herself. "I… I wanted to tell you…" she trails off, avoiding Rachel's gaze for a moment so she can get her bearings. This is much harder than she thought it would be. Rachel's staring right at her, blinking occasionally, as she waits patiently for Quinn to say something. She said it a few times in the still of the hospital room when they were alone, but Rachel had been unconscious then. It was so much easier. She wishes that Rachel could have heard her one of those other times. She wishes that she was strong enough to get this out. Maybe she could come back tomorrow and tell Rachel.

Yeah, that would be better. She could practice exactly what she wanted to say and get it right.

She looks back towards Rachel and feels her eyes bore into her own. She blinks again and Quinn gets lost in her brown irises.

Rachel's _alive_. Rachel's awake and looking at her. She's giving her the undivided attention that she didn't get the first time around. Her eyes are on her and she's waiting to hear what Quinn has to say.

Screw tomorrow.

Tomorrow may never come.

"I have feelings for you." She says it slowly, as if she's not confident in the words she's chosen. It's almost like a question. She shakes her head, "I have feelings for you." She says and once again shakes her head. She wanted to say something else but at least she sounds more confident this time.

Rachel is silent.

Quinn's fingers itch to move and tighten their grasp around Rachel's hand but she somehow manages to stay entirely still.

"W-What," Rachel's voice is hoarse, "What kind of feelings?" she whispers.

Quinn shrugs, "Good ones?"

Rachel nods.

She's failing and she doesn't know how to recover.

"That's what you wanted to tell me," she pauses, "Before my—" she flinches, "Before the accident?"

Quinn nods and this time her hand does tighten its grasp around Rachel's. She closes her eyes, "I'm sorry," she says.

"Why?"

"It's my fault you were…" she trails. "I held you up at school. If I'd just been able to tell you then, maybe you wouldn't be…"

She opens her eyes to find Rachel closing hers.

"It's not your," she clears her throat, "Fault. It's not, Quinn."

"I could have told you sooner," Quinn starts, "When I first realized it. M-maybe you, I don't know, maybe you wouldn't have been on your way to see Finn. Maybe you could have been…" Her tears spill over her eyes at all of the _what-ifs_ that are going through her mind. Her heart hurts and her chest feels heavy even if she just confessed one of her deepest secrets.

"With you?" Rachel asks. "I could have been with you?"

Quinn lets go of Rachel's hand and wipes at her eyes as she sits back, staring at the ceiling in an attempt to get a hold of herself. She shrugs, "It's silly."

"It's not."

Quinn feels so foolish. She wasn't sure what she was expecting but confessing her feelings for a girl while she was literally in a hospital bed was a horrible idea. Rachel's alive and recovering and the last thing she wants is to be bombarded by a sobbing Quinn as she attempts to put her emotions into words.

It's stupid.

"I should go," Quinn begins to stand.

Rachel lunges forward and hisses under her breath before she drops back against the lifted mattress.

"Are you okay?" Quinn asks quickly, her eyes racing over Rachel's body.

"Stay."

"What?"

Rachel inhales and exhales a few times, "Don't leave."

"You need your rest," Quinn attempts to argue but the look Rachel gives her cuts the rest of her words off. "Please don't make me stay," she begins again, "I'm embarrassed."

"Why?"

"Because I just told you I liked you. It wasn't the time… or place," she gestures around and brings her gaze back to Rachel's. The steady beeping of the monitors crowd her ears and she hates that she did this today. "I'm not good at this."

Rachel gnaws on her bottom lip in contemplation before she slowly adjusts her body so that she's angled towards Quinn. She holds her hand out until Quinn holds it. "Finn was here earlier," she starts and Quinn attempts to pull her hand away but Rachel grips it. "He told me that he still had feelings for me. That he wanted to get back together."

Quinn closes her eyes. She should have come sooner. No. She should have never said anything at all. This was her burden to bear and hers alone. She was selfish and put Rachel in this horrible predicament.

Even now, her thoughts were selfish. She doesn't stand a chance against Finn. She should have never said anything because she doesn't know how she'd survive if Rachel were to take Finn back. Where was this sense of self-preservation ten minutes ago?

She opens her eyes, needing to look Rachel in the eye when she lets her down, "What did you say?"

"I asked him to leave," she says softly.

Quinn blinks once, then twice, before a genuine smile stubbornly breaks through her features. She attempts to hide it but it's persistent. "Why?"

Rachel shrugs and drops her eyes to their hands, "I don't know." She looks up, "I have no idea."

"Are you sure?"

"No." Rachel says, "But I remember," she pauses and turns Quinn's hand over so she can trace her palm, "I remember feeling… I remember looking forward to you. To our talk."

Quinn sits back down on the chair and scoots it closer to the bed. Rachel continues to trace her palm and Quinn watches her intently.

"I don't want to forget this feeling," she says after a few minutes of silence.

Quinn releases a weighted breath, "What are you feeling?"

Her brows scrunch in confusion, "I feel like I should have died," Rachel looks up with a sad smile, "But there's a reason I didn't."

Quinn nods as she chews her bottom lip, it's more than she hoped for in regards to a response from Rachel. She sits back in her chair and gestures towards the TV.

Jeopardy is back from commercial.

"C'mon, I'm beating you. You've got to catch up."

Rachel laughs and it takes every single ounce of strength in her not to cry. It's the best sound she's heard in two weeks. She never thought she'd hear that again.

"I hardly think playing against someone who isn't awake counts, Quinn."

"We'll start over."

Rachel squeezes her hand, "Can we?"

Quinn slowly turns her head to look at Rachel. She squeezes her hand back, because they're no longer talking about Jeopardy, "Of course."

Rachel's stubborn smile shows and Quinn returns it because for the first time in two weeks she has something to smile for.

Because Rachel's alive.

Because she asked her to stay.

Because it's a Wednesday.


End file.
